I'm writing the last chapter of my book "Three Weeks and a Hurricane" and it isn't easy. I still have some edits to do, and a filler chapter here or there to write, but the book is pretty much over. This last chapter is hard because in the last bit of this book, i'm summarzing my feelings about love.
Its so hard to think you have lost something really special. Its hard to think that someone you really loved probably didn't see you in the same light. Its hard to know that you can easily express certain aspects of yourself to someone, and they can't do the same. I'm not talking about writing prose worthy of Proust, or drawing me naked on an easel using some Rennaisance technique. I'm talking about merely being able to acknowledge me as a person and my feelings. This is bothering me as I write this last chapter. My challenges in love have often led me to think that maybe I'm the type of person that a person won't "fight" for. Naturally this statement sounds a little negative, but in the face of trying all that i'm trying, I can get book rejections, no problem. I can get a million assignments and handle them, no problem. I can be in groups of strangers and interact with them, and be fine. I can handle the inevitable twisted ankle, scraped knee or broken nail. I can deal with the uncertainty held in my next few steps in my life, but sometimes, just sometimes, Its hardest for me to be hit with a huge emotional blow.
This time, I feel like I'm saying goodbye to a person I didn't have to say goodbye to. I had a chance to acquiesce to the person inside me, and I could have weaseled my way back into my ex's life under the pretense that everything was fine, jim-dandy. But I wasn't jim-dandy. Even though love can make a person destroy themselves, and do almost anything for someone I can't be self-destructive. I can't be hurt and then allow myself to look as if I was hurt for naught.
I can't be tossed aside and then come happily running back to someone with my tail wagging and my tongue out like a dog and its master. Try as I might, I have to be proud of myself. If i'm not i'll be open to the same situations time and time again, and I'll lose.
I did lose something recently, and for the last three days it has been eating at me, day in day out. But there isn't anything I can do. If someone truly loves you, they can show it. If they don't really love you, it shows as well. I'm at the stage where I'm feeling that after-effect of learning the truth, quite like Neo after taking the red pill. I'm partially in shock, and for what seems like the second or third time, i'm completely starting over. Book aside, writing is a reflection of life, especially non-fiction based on yourself. So here I am, writing this last chatper, summarzing my feelings about love (at this moment) and trying not to sound like a wounded, overly jaded twenty something year old.
But that's hard, because I'm trying to write truthfully without being hurtful. If people read what i write, I want it to show them that a person can move on, a person can take a few blows and crawl out of the rubble, I want everyone to be Superman. But we aren't aliens. We are human, flesh and bone, finite. We have diseases, issues, wars and stresses everywhere. Life is a FIGHT.
We fight for love, for food, for occupations, education, sex, pleasure, money and a host of other things. Its a batttle between how good you feel and how much you want to have. I think love is one of the lulls in that battle, a little thing that allows you to remember life doesn't have to be as chaotic as it is. You can look into someone's eyes and see your future in there. You can hold their hand and feel like you dissappear into their consciousness, even for a moment. You can dissappear blissfully for a while, and escape the raging madness of our Ipod-filled, overly political, caffeine amped world.
Then you come back to reality and there's the pain and suffering, the joy and the ups and downs.
So maybe losing love is just stepping back into the real arena of life. Maybe its just being what a human really is: almost animalistic, fighting tooth and nail to find what he/she wants in life. Maybe I've lost a skirmish this time around and I have to REALLY fight the next time love shows its face. Then maybe, I should cling on for dear life, invest properly in my emotions and pray that the person's eyes I look into, see's the same thing in me.
Wishful thinking? You bet.
Its so hard to think you have lost something really special. Its hard to think that someone you really loved probably didn't see you in the same light. Its hard to know that you can easily express certain aspects of yourself to someone, and they can't do the same. I'm not talking about writing prose worthy of Proust, or drawing me naked on an easel using some Rennaisance technique. I'm talking about merely being able to acknowledge me as a person and my feelings. This is bothering me as I write this last chapter. My challenges in love have often led me to think that maybe I'm the type of person that a person won't "fight" for. Naturally this statement sounds a little negative, but in the face of trying all that i'm trying, I can get book rejections, no problem. I can get a million assignments and handle them, no problem. I can be in groups of strangers and interact with them, and be fine. I can handle the inevitable twisted ankle, scraped knee or broken nail. I can deal with the uncertainty held in my next few steps in my life, but sometimes, just sometimes, Its hardest for me to be hit with a huge emotional blow.
This time, I feel like I'm saying goodbye to a person I didn't have to say goodbye to. I had a chance to acquiesce to the person inside me, and I could have weaseled my way back into my ex's life under the pretense that everything was fine, jim-dandy. But I wasn't jim-dandy. Even though love can make a person destroy themselves, and do almost anything for someone I can't be self-destructive. I can't be hurt and then allow myself to look as if I was hurt for naught.
I can't be tossed aside and then come happily running back to someone with my tail wagging and my tongue out like a dog and its master. Try as I might, I have to be proud of myself. If i'm not i'll be open to the same situations time and time again, and I'll lose.
I did lose something recently, and for the last three days it has been eating at me, day in day out. But there isn't anything I can do. If someone truly loves you, they can show it. If they don't really love you, it shows as well. I'm at the stage where I'm feeling that after-effect of learning the truth, quite like Neo after taking the red pill. I'm partially in shock, and for what seems like the second or third time, i'm completely starting over. Book aside, writing is a reflection of life, especially non-fiction based on yourself. So here I am, writing this last chatper, summarzing my feelings about love (at this moment) and trying not to sound like a wounded, overly jaded twenty something year old.
But that's hard, because I'm trying to write truthfully without being hurtful. If people read what i write, I want it to show them that a person can move on, a person can take a few blows and crawl out of the rubble, I want everyone to be Superman. But we aren't aliens. We are human, flesh and bone, finite. We have diseases, issues, wars and stresses everywhere. Life is a FIGHT.
We fight for love, for food, for occupations, education, sex, pleasure, money and a host of other things. Its a batttle between how good you feel and how much you want to have. I think love is one of the lulls in that battle, a little thing that allows you to remember life doesn't have to be as chaotic as it is. You can look into someone's eyes and see your future in there. You can hold their hand and feel like you dissappear into their consciousness, even for a moment. You can dissappear blissfully for a while, and escape the raging madness of our Ipod-filled, overly political, caffeine amped world.
Then you come back to reality and there's the pain and suffering, the joy and the ups and downs.
So maybe losing love is just stepping back into the real arena of life. Maybe its just being what a human really is: almost animalistic, fighting tooth and nail to find what he/she wants in life. Maybe I've lost a skirmish this time around and I have to REALLY fight the next time love shows its face. Then maybe, I should cling on for dear life, invest properly in my emotions and pray that the person's eyes I look into, see's the same thing in me.
Wishful thinking? You bet.
No comments:
Post a Comment